Amalie@kua

Hand over hand.

One foot, then the other.

Climbing this mountain

Of sorrow and grief.

Desperately trying

To reach its snowy peaks.

You start at the bottom.

Then work your way up.

Always putting others before myself, I don't know why, it's just something I do too much and too often

Maybe I am enough, just the way I am, if I look a little deeper than just what others say they see

I wish I could sit high in the sky,

Alone within the nothing,

Yet everyone in the everything

Laid out before me.

I could watch light be cast upon the world,

I hate the outdoors

The February sleet turns to March mud 

A murky pallet of miserable grays and viscous browns

As I climb

Looking from a plane, glowing

streets, like spiraling

spider webs

knitted on the elder plains,

out of hope, out of pride.

Crossings of the intertwined veins